Dogs Will Be Dogs: Let’s Translate, Not Terminate

The first dog I got for myself, once I’d moved away from my childhood home, was a Rottweiler I named Ivan. We called him Bubs. When Bubs was about a year old, we briefly stayed with my aunt’s family at their home in the country. It was a beautiful place with lots of wildlife, woods to wander, and even a pond. My younger sister was staying there, too. 

One evening, I came home from work late and found a note in my sister’s handwriting taped to my bedroom door: “BEWARE OF THE TOAD.” Having no clue what that meant, I shrugged and went into my room where my darling Bubs was snoozing and waiting for me. The next morning my sister told me that when she had gone to get Bubs for a walk, there’d been a toad hopping around in my bedroom. She didn’t even try to catch it, just grabbed Bubs and got the heck out of there. It took me forever to find the little creature, but I finally did, and we put him back outside where he belonged. 

A few days later, I was brushing my teeth in my en suite bathroom when something hopped past my foot. It was a toad! Another one! What was going on?  

This kept happening. Toads in my room. Nowhere else in the house, and my aunt said they’d never had that problem before in all of the years they’d lived there. Hmmm… 

Now Bubs was truly a lovely dog. We’d started dog training together. I took him to many classes and one thing we’d learned was the soft-mouthed retrieve, a skill often used by service dogs so they can pick things up for people without damaging the item (hunting dogs also learn this skill). Bubs was great at it and his soft-mouthed retrieve made for a fun party trick. He could retrieve a raw egg without dropping or breaking it. He could deliver beer cans to friends without shaking up the contents. Such a useful skill! Little did I know that my best boy would also use this ability to play a trick on me. 

One day, after a romp in the woods, as I wiped my boots at the door to my room, I noticed that Bubs looked odd. His eyes were wide and darting back and forth. His posture was stiff and awkward, even when in motion, and weirdest of all, his lips were tightly pursed. 

I’d seen this look before. When he was a puppy, Bubs used to like to steal scrunchies out of my hair and then pretend he didn’t have them in his mouth. This seemed to be his idea of a joke, and it was pretty silly. I’d tell him to drop the scrunchie and he’d look sheepish, with pursed lips as if to say, “What? I don’t have anything!” 

So with his trickster past in mind, I asked Bubs to drop whatever he had in his mouth. True to form, he acted as though he had nothing. I asked again, more insistently. After some back and forth, he finally gave in, lowered his head, ever so slowly he opened his mouth, and placed a live toad, completely unharmed, at my feet.

That silly boy had been sneaking toads into my room and letting them loose! Mystery solved, and we all had a good laugh about it. That was 20 years ago, and it’s still one of my favorite memories. 

I’ve been a professional dog trainer my entire adult life, starting back in those days with my dear pal Bubs. Over the years, my primary area of focus has been training pet/companion dogs and shelter dogs. In both cases, people generally seek out a dog trainer to stop a behavior they don’t like. Sadly, some even surrender their dog to a shelter because he displayed too many doggy behaviors that they didn’t know how to manage. Owners or shelter staff often reach out to me to stop barking, lunging, tugging, pulling, chewing, trash raiding, chasing, or other common canine behaviors. 

Somewhere along the way, I realized that many dog owners viewed me as the Terminator, the person who would rid their dogs of unwanted traits. This took me a while to accept, especially in my early years as a trainer. After all, I got into dog training because I absolutely love dogs. I find everything about them fascinating. I enjoy their behavior. I study it. I can watch dogs play, work, squabble, problem solve, sniff, cuddle, and yes, even sleep (I have video and literally hundreds of photos of my dogs just plain sleeping - come on, they are so darn adorable when they sleep, aren’t they?). I want to know what makes these magnificent creatures tick. 

The truth is dogs love to roll in mud and stinky scents they find in nature. They follow their noses, which often lead them to the trash bins. Dogs love a scavenger hunt for canine treasures. They delight in eating smelly things! 

It confounds me when people get a dog, especially a purpose-bred dog, and then are annoyed by his instinctual behavior. Some dogs love to run. Some herd. Some guard. Some chase and some bite. Some are hyper-vigilant. Others retrieve things. Some dig. Others climb or bay and howl. Some dogs were even bred to pull. Most dogs not only like to be busy, they need jobs, because they were purposely bred - by us! By humans. To work. And yet so many of us want our dogs to sit around and do nothing. Or at least not the things that make them dogs.  

So from my perspective, I am not the Terminator. I am the Translator. I am a guide and a couple’s counselor. My goal is to help my human students understand and respect their dog’s inherent behavior even if they don’t always appreciate it. I love to teach people how to channel their dog’s natural abilities and inclinations into productive outlets. Often this includes a new game or sport that both owner and dog can learn together. 

Harnessing your dog’s natural inclinations will give you insight into another world, one where the environment is explored via vivid smell-o-vision. Observing your dog will open you up to a new language spoken not with words, but displayed through wonderfully choreographed body movements. Hanging out with dogs will teach you to live in the present and to play every day. 

Dogs are the one true love of my life. I am grateful for the comfort they’ve provided over the years and the lessons I’ve learned in their presence. I adore them for what they’ve taught me and what they’ve brought to my life - even when it’s toads.